He took in a long breath and shook his head. The more answers he found, the more questions he was left with. He was not certain if Brownlow was involved in his brother’s release. Or if Miss Eleanor Oswald knew something of her lover’s disappearance. Or if Alexander Oswald had a hand in anything at all.
He only knew much more was boiling beneath the surface than anyone realized. And secrets were coming to light.
No one could stay hidden forever.
She should not come here so much. Mamma never came.
Bending next to the grave, Georgina swept her fingertips along the wet stone. No yellow flower decorated the grave, and no strange-looking figure stared at her from the hawthorn tree. What had the man been ready to confess? Why had she heard nothing of him since her return?
She had forfeited her one chance at answers for Simon.
Her soul burned.
She would do it again, and again, and again for him. “I love him, Papa.” The confession eased some of the ache deep within her. “I questioned my own motives. I even assured myself that the infatuation stemmed from his lack of interest.”
She imagined Papa nodding, eyes serious and thoughtful.
“But the truth of it is that I just…I just love him.” She leaned her forehead against the grave. “I always have.” This morning, a letter had been delivered from Sowerby House.
Like a child, anxiousness had shaken her fingers and her cheeks had heated—but when she broke the seal and unfolded the paper, the handwriting did not belong to Simon.
My dear girl, if I have missed anything in these past weeks, it is your delightful visits to Sowerby House. I know the presenceof my son does complicate matters. Indeed, it quite complicates everything. I can scarcely bear the pain of knowing we have but one week before Sowerby is lost to this family. How Geoffrey would have lamented. Darling, forgive me for speaking this way, but I must say what troubles my heart. Will you not reconsider the offer of marriage made by my son? I fear he is too proud to ask a second time, and as I know you have always been fond of him, I cannot imagine why you would refuse. I daresay, it must be the children that bother you and the rugged creature Simon has become. But with prayers and patience, perhaps he shall one day return to the decency and sensibility of his father. Do not write an answer, my dear. Come and see me for dinner and we shall talk more then.
Signed, in the handwriting likely of a servant, Mrs. Fancourt.
A sigh filled Georgina. Would she go? Should she?
After all, she could not do as Mrs. Fancourt asked. Even before Simon’s declaration on their carriage ride, she had already determined against such a marriage. All her life she had been loving people who, in the end, did not love her.
She had not the strength to commit her life to such a fate.
With a whispered goodbye to Papa, Georgina departed the graveyard and fingered Mrs. Fancourt’s letter in the pocket of her spencer jacket. Perhaps the kindest thing would be to write a response.
At least then she would not have to look Mrs. Fancourt in the face.
Or see Simon again so soon.
Back inside her town house, she hung her bonnet on the hat rack and thanked the butler when he mentioned that Mamma wished to see her in the parlor.
If Mamma was reading that dreadful magazine again, Georgina would scream.
“Oh, darling, there you are!” Mamma sprang from a chair the second Georgina entered, clapping both hands and already laughing. “You shall never guess who arrived when you were out today. Who do you think?”
Georgina glanced at the man sitting on the cream-velvet settee, his back to her. She smiled. “Pray, do not keep me in suspense, Mamma.”
“Byron, meet my daughter, Georgina Whitmore. Daughter, meet my husband, Mr. Lutwidge.”
He stood, turned, met her eyes—
Him.Georgina’s head spun. The man from the graveyard. The stranger with the yellow flowers, only he was different. His black hair was short, a stylish Caesar haircut, and the clothes that once seemed haggard were new and polished and glistening.
Even the lines about his face seemed smoother.
His mouth didn’t gape.
He was steady, unaffected, and bowed with a careful ease that set every alarm ringing in her skull.
“Darling, do say something. He is your new papa now, you know.” Mamma swept next to him and hugged his arm. “She is only shy, my love. I should have mentioned it. But we shall all get acquainted soon enough, shan’t we?”
